


(She's) Back in Black

by alephthirteen



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Celtic Mythology, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Slavic Mythology & Folklore
Genre: Brought to You By the Number Three, But Also Seven, But Also a "The Witcher" AU, Coming Back From the Dead Happens Sometimes But That Doesn't Mean It's A Good Idea, Divorced Narcissa, Ex-Con Draco, F/F, F/M, Ginny Weasley is a Demon in the Sack!, Hermione and Harry are Besties!, Horny Widow Andromeda Tonks, Lesbian Studmuffin Chief Auror Nymphadora Tonks, M/M, Narcissa Malfoy is Soft!, Nine Has its Charms Too, Parallel Realities Collide!, She Will Shapeshift In Order to Trick a Girl's Parents, Sort of an "American Gods" AU, seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28625436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alephthirteen/pseuds/alephthirteen
Summary: The War is over.  Everything should go back to normal.  Except this time, the kids know what's up.  If they don't make big changes, their children will go to class with the next lunatic and their grandchildren will fight him.Change is needed.  Hermione Granger runs for office and nominates Harry Potter as head of the Ministry of Safety, the massive new auror department.  Harry was happy being a house dad for his kids and sex toy for a hot-blooded quidditch all-star, even if the latter led to Ginny having Narcissa 'tag in' before Harry was worn to a nubbin.  When Hermione Granger has a job that needs doing, he knows better than to say no.She steps down from two terms of Minister as Magic, endorsing Harry Potter as her successor while she goes to the Ministry of Mysteries to scratch a research itch or two...or three...or fifty.That's when she finds the world's most dangerous copy ofArt History Quarterly.
Kudos: 7





	(She's) Back in Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Harry thought his hangover was his biggest problem.

**Harry Potter (Minister of Magic)**

The bodyguard assigned to him today sees Hermione Granger heading straight for him with half a bookshelf in her arms and a folder of papers rustling on top of them and some sort of temporary insanity possesses him to try and _stop her_ from barging into the office.

"Madam, you can't be in he-"

"STUPEFY!" Hermione barks.

Jenkins goes flying wingtips over bowler hat.

"Mione," Harry whines. "We're supposed to be nursing hangovers and being on the same page with muggles about 2020 being over. I'm required but why are you even at work today?"

"Research," she huffs, slapping three newspaper articles down. "You'll never guess what I found."

"Mate, I am hungover, I had to listen to Cyrus Greengrass _and_ Adrienne Zabini explain why I shouldn't have a muggleborn Minister of Mysteries last night and I'm ninety percent sure _Ginny is pregnant._ This dragonpox outbreak in Texas is getting bad and Luna's people aren't sure they can back up MACUSA Medical Department for long enough to keep it from getting to the muggles. If it gets to them in the next two weeks, it'll end up everywhere. Goddamned airliners."

"I might end up talking to the prime minister or the American president about it. Both of whom are great, perverted lumps with weird hair. I'm not looking forward."

Hermione waves his complaint away.

"Just tell Luna you need another month and you can meet with the new guy after State of the Union. That woman can cure anything."

"'Mione, if that disease gets out, people all over the world are going to grow scales and hiccup fire. She statue of secrecy is done for. So fascinating as your little puzzle is, guessing is just not happening."

"Fine," she huffs, crossing her arms. As is her wont after an all night brain binge, she's in the clothes she wore the day before. In this case, a cherry-red sleeveless gown which wowed more than a few of the pureblood doubters but was meant for one particular French guest who did not show last night.

"Remember how you, Ron and me figured out we were Touched?"

"And Ginny," Harry reminds her.

"Right. Your birthday, Patronus, drinking habit, general randiness and a half dozen other things about you are all indicators of influence from the Horned God. Either one of the proto-Germanic versions or more likely, the Cythonic Dionysius from Mycenean Greece. Death, the underworld and rebirth can't get enough of you. And, if I’m being honest, you’re a miraculous shag and great fun to be around when you’re tipsy.”

She winces.

"Need to write Ginny a thank for sharing you for the post-divorce pity fuck."

"Back on topic," Harry whines, conjuring some sunglasses.

“Ginny was born during a thunderstorm, on a day that druidesses dedicated to the Celtic thunder god Thannis. And you and I both know what her lightning-licker hex can do to a target. I was bor-"

"On Marie Curie's wedding day, a minor feast day for Athena in Sparta and a day where a village in Siberia sacrifices to Baba Yaga," he fills in. "Ergo, the cleverest witch of her generation, strategically brilliant and willing to do nasty things to a target with kitchen implements."

She huffs.

"I do pay attention, 'Mione."

"In retrospect, given his birth omens, I should have expected Ron to cheat on me," she grumbles.

"Just relax, look single, flirt with a cute secretary or three and listen for the sound of feathers," he reminds her. "If you think Fleur and her little playmate are going to stay away for long, you're wrong. Make you a bet. She comes after you before Valentine's or I will put your dominatrix outfit in the budget when she finally does."

"Can't believe you found out about that," she grumbles.

"Three riding crops went missing from Hagrid's thestral stables in one summer, 'Mione. And Fleur didn't like to sit down between second and third tasks."

Hermione slaps her hand down to draw attention to the articles.

"Statue of _Hekate Triformis,_ the three faced goddess of witchcraft. British Museum. On three separate occasions in the 1950s it got blood on it. Splashes, someone cut their hand and stumbled, whatever. Those days line up exactly with the births of Bellatrix, Andromeda and Naricssa Black. Each one happened after hours and all three girls were born at night."

"Crone. Bella is an unhinged witch with more power than I like to think about. Glad we never really faced her head-on. Matron. Andromeda did such an aces job mothering Nymphadora that Narcissa sent _Draco to her_ to get straight after he got out. Maiden…"

Hermione chuckles.

"I don't think I have to tell you what Narcissa is like, do I, _hubby?"_

"Ginny's idea," Harry whines.

"I'm sure. And the fact that you took all your meetings in here after her championship wins wasn't because our friend was such a crazy shag that you couldn't walk or anything, was it?"

"Buck up," she says, slapping him with a ruler. "Not all men get to have their childhood sweetheart suggest they marry his chief wank fantasy."

"She's a great mum," Harry mumbles. "Rose loves her. Ginny doesn't want another after this one but I think she wants a big family and I think she's trying to talk Narcissa into it. Merlin help me."

"The Black girls are not just Touched, they're a _mundis triformis_ , Harry. An interlocking three-pronged expression of cosmic energy into our world. The last time three magical people were born in rapid succession with the same god or goddess' omen, an island in Indonesia blew up."

Harry flips through the articles, one each from muggle newspapers and the Daily Prophet.

"But we're fine, right? Bella's gone."

Hermione shakes her head.

"Harry, there's nothing I can find in runes, arithmancy, magical history, religion, _anything_ that says you can break a triformis up. A triformis losing a piece is like math deciding that a circle has straight edges. Bella's death is a violation of natural order. And it's been twenty-one years. Seven, seven, and seven again. Big shit happens to magic when sevens stack up with threes, Harry."

"I _really_ wish I'd taken that Arithmancy elective."

"We both know how the universe and magic feel about gaps like this. Last night the worst thunderstorm on record developed over the Scottish Highlands. The part of the Forbidden Forest around the mass grave for the Death Eaters was burned to ash. If I were you, I'd mobilize every auror we've got and go count corpses to make sure they're all there."

"Bugger me sideways," Harry groans. "Right. Re-enervate Jenkins and grab your wand. I think you should come with me on this one, old friend."

"Should I," Hermione blushes, suddenly much more like twelve-year-old Hermione. "Apologize?"

Harry snorts.

"During Auror training, I gave them a _detailed_ explanation of what the Class of 1998 got up to. Jenkins should've known better than to get in line of sight with you..."

**Author's Note:**

> ##  [ Want to see the posh stuff? Want to see future chapters early? ](https://rb.gy/b1fjhr)  
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